Dirty Little Secret
by Electric Dream
Summary: AU: Samuel Harvelle had been protected from the supernatural world for most of his life but when he meets a fellow hunter this all changes, his world is twisted upside down with a forbidden love that could never be or could it?...Sam/Dean (REWRITTEN) (NON RELATED)
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! So this is a story idea I started a couple of years ago but decided that I couldn't handle too many stories at once so this was put on the backburner. I recently came across it again and decided that rather than add to it I would rewrite it. So I hope you enjoy especially if you were following it in the first place (really sorry I never got round to finishing but I promise I will stick with this one this time!) Let me know what you think and if you are interested in me continuing. Postings will be every weekend starting from next week!**

 **6** **th** **October 1997**

School was either a blessing or a curse depending on how you looked at it. For some it was a release from their home life and an opportunity to grow as a person while for others it was a chance to socialise and slack off. The latter didn't tend to get far in life but were always the ones to step in the former's way. If you didn't fit in then you would be punished that was the way of school life. Something that Samuel Harvelle knew way too well.

Sam slung his backpack over his shoulder where the zip wouldn't close properly due to the mountain of school books he had stuffed inside. His right arm held onto the strap while his left hand was delved deep into his jacket pocket. His eyes stared down at the ground watching his feet with every step he walked. Attempting to make himself look as small as possible which was a hard task for a fourteen year old that was taller than normal.

He could hear the chatter of students around him as they congregated in their groups excitedly chatting about their nights and their plans though they had only seen each other twelve hours prior. Sam sighed under his breath. He had never been a popular kid, sure he had friends but never one that he could confide in, someone who knew him better than he knew himself. The closest he had come to someone like that was Jessica. He had grown up with her living next door, they have been the best of friends all the way through Elementary school well until she had hit puberty. As her tits grew so did her feelings for him.

Sure she was a beautiful blond cheerleader type but as he was soon to discover she didn't interest him the way she should do. He was fourteen and completely oblivious to her attempts to seduce him. Truth be told he didn't really look at anyone like that never really had. He was too busy with his schoolwork at least that was what he told his parents.

…

Turning the corner by the gates he peered through the gap in his hair, of course they were standing there probably waiting for him like they did every single day without fail. Sam's heart started to pound in his chest and he wanted nothing better to do than to turn tail and run back home. His father's words echoed in his head _stand up and fight for yourself_ then his mother's _violence doesn't solve a thing Samuel just talk to them I'm sure they just want to be friends_. Yeah right of course they did it's why they wanted to talk to him with their fists and nine times out of ten he came away with a bloody nose.

Drawing in a deep breath he readjusted his backpack on his shoulder, straightened his shoulders and with his head held high he walked towards the front gates attempting to ignore the cat calls coming his way.

"SSSSSSSSAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYY" that grinding voice screamed out making Sam's skin crawl. He balled his hand into a fist in his pocket continuing to walk forward hoping that he could somehow make himself invisible even if just for a moment. Of course luck never was on his side. "SSSSSSSAAAAAAAMMMMMMMYYYYY" the voice continued this time coming from directly in front of him.

Sam attempted to turn on his heels however more of the bullies goons appeared from behind him effectively blocking him in. He drew in a deep breath composing himself for what was about to happen. "Running to cry to mummy?" the voice he hated mocked with the kids surrounding him laughing in unison. "Cry baby Sammy," the kids started to cackle. "Going to cry runt?"

"Fuck off Stephen," Sam growled pulling his hand out of his pocket ready to defend himself if need be. He stared at the gates behind him calculating on whether or not he would be able to make a run for it, he knew that he had a weight advantage and he was quite slim for his age but their numbers more than made up for it. "Let me go," he added forcing himself to look his bully in the eye.

Stephen had, to better describe him, a face that only his mother could love. He had bright red cheeks which puffed out every time he moved making him seem more frog than human not that anyone ever had the guts to say that to his face. He thought that he was the Alpha of the school and that he was untouchable though Sam knew all it would take was one person to show him for the coward that he was for that crown to topple from his head. Many times he had wanted to be that person however every time he felt like he could his courage left him.

"Did you hear what he just said to me?" Stephen scoffed his cheeks puffing out further. "Tsk language," he added leaning down wrapping his fist in Sam's coat collar pulling him closer towards him. He had at least an extra foot of height on Sam and he always used it to his advantage. "Want to say that again runt?" Stephen hissed into Sam's face spraying him in spit with every syllable. "Don't have your little girlfriend to hide behind now,"

"She's not my girlfriend," Sam replied attempting to pull out of the bully's grasp to no avail. Behind him he could hear the bell ringing, great that meant he was going to be late yet again meaning that he was never going to hear the end of it from his mother, just peachy.

"Ah," Stephen laughed tilting his head at the sound of the bell like it was just an insistent unimportant buzzing. "You ever have her?" he questioned pulling Sam even closer. "I bet she has great tits."

"Shut up," Sam growled his voice deepening as anger began to fill his veins.

"Oh we touched a nerve aye boys?" Stephen cackled with his sheep following in unison. "I bet she would be begging for me, I could take her right behind the bleachers."

A sharp crack echoed throughout the air, all talk freezing at the sound. Sam's eyes widened as his hand hung in the air inches away from Stephen's face. Stephen's head was titled to the side with a brightening hand print on his cheek, his tongue roamed the inside of his cheek like he was looking for any signs of damage. Slowly he turned his attention back to Sam, his face darkening while his eyes glared down at the younger teenager with a murderous expression. Stephen reached up with his free hand and closed it around Sam's wrist, he pulled his shoulder back at the same time he threw him onto the floor. All around them the group of teenagers started to close in effectively creating a bully circle.

Sam grunted as he fell on his right shoulder, the bone creaking under the impact. He could feel his body begin to shake with the adrenaline surging through him. Stephen rounded on him instantly, leaning down so that he was hovering over him his hands twisting in Sam's shirt forcing him into the ground.

"You will fucking pay for that," he growled releasing one hand, balling it into a fist and slamming it down on Sam's ribs, his favourite place. His own rule was to never hit where it could lead marks, marks would lead to questions which would lead to snitching and Stephen was one more strike away from being sent to military school. "I will ruin your life," he added forcing another blow down causing Sam to inhale a sharp breath. "I will take your little bitch and make you watch as I make her scream," he continued to say between punches. "I will pop her cherry and ruin her for you or anyone else," all around them the crowd had started to cheer. "I'm surprised you even noticed her, little gay boy are we Sammy?"

Sam groaned his head slamming back into the pavement making his vision waver. His side was on fire and he could have sworn that he had heard his ribs crack under the pressure. He was going to be all shades of blue that was going to be fun to hide from his family. "S…stop…" he choked out.

"I'm just getting started!" Stephen shouted standing to his full height and beginning to kick at Sam's abused ribs.

…

"HEY!" a deep voice called out from somewhere behind them and mentally Sam prayed that someone was going to help him rather than decide to join in like what happened last time. He felt Stephen pause as he allowed his eyes to open as the blows began to cease. "HEY!" the voice called again.

The crowd surrounding them began to part as the mysterious stranger pushed their way through. Stephen glared at the newcomer, his eyes narrowing and his legs parting ready to run or fight depending on the situation.

Standing directly in front of Stephen was a guy that Sam had never seen before, he was tall probably almost six foot by the looks of him, he didn't look much older than eighteen judging by his face and the barely there stubble on his cheeks. He was wearing a pair of ripped at the knees jeans with a simple flannel shirt covered by what seemed to be an old leather jacket that was miles too big for him but probably held some form of sentimental value judging the age of it. His dark blond hair was gelled into gentle spikes. However it was his eyes that captivated Sam's attention. Though they were completely focused on Stephen he could still see the colour of them. An emerald green. He could feel his heart skip a beat and if he wasn't hurting than he might have felt confused at the feelings that were rushing through him.

"What?" Stephen declared throwing his arms out to the side like he hadn't been doing anything wrong. "We are just messing around."

The stranger snorted his eyebrows raising as he finally seemed to notice Sam who was still lying on the ground and so totally not staring…nope…not at all… "Right," He delved his hands into the depths of his pockets and seemed content that he wasn't moving. "You alright kid?" the stranger asked turning his eyes back onto Sam once more.

Sam coughed attempting to push himself off of the ground however his ribs seemed to have other ideas. He groaned as he wrapped an arm around his middle that was just great, he was late and probably had a broken rib to top it all off just want he wanted on the first day of term. "Yeah," he managed to wheeze out wanting to sound less pathetic that what he felt.

"Nice try," the stranger rolled his eyes turning his attention back towards Stephen who looked like he was a minute away from starting his favourite conversation…with his fists. "I won't ask again," he warned his voice lowering with a dangerous tone lacing his words.

Stephen scoffed with his sheep laughing though they were beginning to sound nervous, not so tough were they when they were backed into a corner. Slowly Sam began to push himself up so that he was now sitting on the ground feeling less vulnerable than lying.

"I would run along back to your mummy if I was you," Stephen laughed. "Let the real men sort this out," he gestured towards himself and the people behind him.

The mysterious stranger chuckled his green eyes glinting with his apparent amusement. "Real men huh, all I see is a pot-bellied douche," the stranger pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them out in front of him, his right hand was twitching like it was taking a lot for him to restrain himself, his muscles (that a teenager shouldn't have) was flexing underneath his jacket.

"Go back and cry to your mummy, get her to kiss your boo boos, we have no issue with you," Stephen growled stepping forward and grasping hold of Sam's arms effectively pushing him back onto the floor which caused the stranger to growl.

"Unless you have an Ouija board that's not possible asshole," the stranger's smirk turned into a snarl a feral look crossing his face at the mention of his mother. "Let the kid go."

"You are one step away from being ten feet in the ground buddy," Stephen warned stepping away from Sam and rounding on the newcomer.

"Wow one step, good to know," the guy declared his lips curling back up into the smirk. He turned his attention back to Sam and winked at him causing Sam's stomach to do a backflip, ok he had never felt like this before. What the hell was going on? With his attention back onto Stephen he drew in an exaggerated breath and took a step closer to the bully, his crowd of friends inhaling at the same time as this was the first time that someone had actively stood up to Stephen.

"Jesus you have a death wish," Stephen grunted his nostrils flaring as he too took a step closer until the pair were inches apart.

"I prefer Dean," Dean winked. "There's no way in hell I am walking on water for you though." Sam had to suppress his laughter at that comment.

"You think you are so funny?" Stephen scoffed.

"I think I am adorable," Dean replied his smile widening while Stephen's face flushed an interesting shade of red. His cheeks puffed out even more as he looked to his sheep not seeming to know what to do. His eyes were almost bulging out of his head with the rage that seemed to be boiling inside of him.

"That's it you're going down!" Stephen declared.

"Bring it!" Dean shouted.

…

The school bell rang again indicating the first break after registration, the doors flew open and kids filtered out chatting excitedly to one another. It took about twenty seconds for the first group to notice the commotion, they began to circle the pair wanting the best view point of the shit that was about to go down.

Stephen growled, now in his element with the crowd surrounding him. Sam slowly pushed himself to his feet, wrapping an arm across his ribs he attempted to blend into the crowd not wanting the attention drawn back to himself.

Stephen leapt forward charging at Dean with his right fist. His face had seemed to settle on a deepest shade of crimson as he attempted to impact his fist with the newcomer's face.

Sam could feel his heart leap into his throat at the same time that the crowd started cheering the one word ' _Fight'_ over and over again. His eyes were glued upon the pair fighting over him and he found that he couldn't tear his eyes away from the mysterious stranger known only as Dean.

Dean caught the fist effortlessly about an inch away from his face, his green eyes glinted with what Sam presumed was amusement as he added pressure onto Stephen's hand. He brought a knee up and this came into contact with the bully's stomach, causing the sixteen year old to double over in pain instantly. The most amusing whimper escaped Stephen's mouth. Sam's self-control wavered while the suppressed laughter from earlier escaped his lips.

Sam watched as Dean turned his gaze towards him momentarily with that smirk pushing harder against his lips before turning back down to the bully. He still held onto Stephen's fist effortlessly.

"Now, you listen to me you pot-bellied douche, you will leave this kid alone from now on or I swear to God I won't be responsible for my actions. Got it?" Dean added pressure onto the hand he held until a grimace of pain spread across Stephen's face.

The bully practically whimpered underneath Dean's grip and this fact just caused Sam to laugh even harder. This was priceless seeing the bully who had tormented him for the last year finally getting a taste of his own medicine, a long time coming if you asked him.

"I'm sorry I can't hear you…I believe I asked you a question!" Dean muttered whilst he appeared to twist Stephen's hand back further which in turn caused the boy to cry out in an undeniable whimper of pain.

"Yes…"

"Yes what?"

"Yes I'll leave the runt alone…OW…I mean…I mean…please get the fuck off of me…it hurts…OW!" Stephen cried out with tears slowly snaking their way down his cheeks.

"Kinda the point dude…now leave the kid alone, if I hear you have at least breathed the same air as him then…well let's just what happens…Got it!"

"YES PLEASE JUST LET ME GO, PLEASE I SWEAR I WILL NEVER GO NEAR HIM AGAIN! PLEASE!" Stephen shouted out and all around him the cheering crowd had fallen silent. Each and every one had the same look of shocked amusement upon their faces. Most looked like a cloud had finally been lifted and they saw the school's 'master' for who he really was. "Please…"

"Jesus dude no one likes a cry-baby," Dean muttered while he released Stephen's arm, allowing the boy to crumple to the ground in pain as he cradled his injured hand to his wrist. The older boy grinned while he turned on his heels to face Sam, that brilliant smile plastered across his face again and Sam had never seen anything so dazzling in the whole of his fourteen years.

The older boy walked out of the circle that had formed around him and walked over to where Sam was standing, stopping one step in front of him. "You're alright kid."

Sam merely nodded before he managed to find his voice once more. "Thanks to you, that was awesome…no one has ever…I mean…"

"No sweat kid, I can't stand dicks like that douchebag back there…I'm Dean by the way," the older boy replied holding out his hand to Sam who took it without a moment's hesitation.

"Sam."

Releasing his hand the elder boy smirked once more before turning on his heels and stalking through the school gates throwing a simple "Nice to meet you Sam," over his shoulder as he left.

Sam stood there for a moment watching his retreating back with a smile of his own spreading across his lips. "Nice to meet you too…Dean…"

TBC?


	2. Chapter 2

Sam groaned as he lowered himself into his seat, he had missed first period due to the unplanned beating but seeing Stephen run off with his tail between his legs had been freaking worth it. Dean had saved him and since then he hadn't seen the older man, he didn't even know if he even went to this school, or whether he was just a random passer-by with some sort of hero complex. Not that Sam cared mind you. He was just glad that he was in the right place at the right time.

As soon as he had managed to push past the pain and find the courage to enter the school he had been smothered by Jess. Her worried look had him laughing though he wasn't sure what exactly he had found funny. Soon she had been laughing beside him and wrapping her perfectly manicured nails around his arm and leading him into his first class of the day. English. He didn't mind it but recently they have had a string of substitutes, giving teenager a substitute was like giving them a loaded gun. Oh well for once he wasn't in the mood for school. He just wanted to keep his head down and ignore the fire that was his ribs. He was pretty sure they weren't broken but it wasn't like he was a doctor and there was no way he was going to the school nurse. He didn't want his parents to find out knowing he wouldn't hear the end of it. The last thing he needed was his mother storming down into the school, he would never live it down.

The second bell rang indicating the start of class and there was still no teacher. Sighing Sam rolled his eyes, folded his arms, placed them on the desk and rested his head. An hour of sleep who could complain. Beside him he heard Jess chuckle under her breath her notebook making an appearance, the notebook that she never let him nor anyone else look inside. He guessed it was either full of crude drawings or dirty secrets, one day he was going to take a look just not today. Today all he wanted to do was sleep the day away and hope that the pain in his side would dull down.

His classmates were whispering around him, some were wondering what had happened to their teacher while others were throwing Sam's name around and talking about the hot piece of ass who had handed Stephen his dignity on a plate. It seems that he would no longer be able to run the school. Maybe Sam might be able to walk to and from school in peace now.

…

Sam's eyelids were beginning to droop when the classroom door slammed open in a dramatic manner making him jump. Instantly Sam bolted upright in his seat wiping away a small amount of drool that seemed to be making its way out of his mouth. He groaned as the movements jarred his ribs and he narrowed his eyes towards the intruder who had decided that it was a good idea to interrupt his nap time.

The students erupted into a round of applause as an older man entered the room. He merely grunted at them like he was hating every moment he had to be there. He was going to be one of those subs was he? He was wearing faded jeans and what seemed to be a very old flannel shirt, he had a grey beard with a baseball cap perched on his head looking like it hadn't come off since the sixties. He didn't once look at any of them seemed to be content to take his seat in front of the desk throwing down the newspaper he had in his hand.

"Is that our teacher?" Jess whispered beside him to which Sam merely shrugged his shoulders, ok it made a difference from the old woman they had the other week who smelt of old pears and cats.

"Sir! The retirement home is across the road!" one of the male students called out causing the class to erupt in laughter. The elder man scoffed mimicking the teenager as he placed the newspaper on the desk.

"I don't want to be here just like you don't want to be here kid," the elder man replied causing the class's laughter to stop seeming to not be sure whether or not he was being serious, it was always hard to judge a new face. "Shut up and we can get through this hour," he added picking up his paper and starting to read it once more.

"Err you not going to teach us?" one female called from the front.

"Nope," the man replied turning the page seeming to be engrossed in whatever he was reading about. "That's his job," he gestured over his shoulder to where the door to the classroom was being closed by the newcomer that Sam hadn't notice come into the room. "I'm just the chaperone," he added burying his face into the paper.

Sam felt the breath leave his body as he stared into familiar green eyes that he had only just discovered an hour ago. He stifled the urge to allow his mouth to hang open, ok maybe the theory of a random passer-by had just gone out the window. His heart started to hammer in his chest and he wasn't sure what was going on. He had never experience a reaction like this anyone.

The class quietened, the popular girls were suddenly trying to stick their chests out while the guys glowered at him with distaste clear in their eyes. Jess was staring, her eyes were fluttering she was on full out flirting mode, something that apparently she shot Sam's way many times according to his sister though he had yet to see it for himself. It seemed that she was controlled by her hormones as much as the next person though he didn't blame her. Sam guessed that his idolisation of this complete stranger was the fact that he had come to his aid when no one else ever had. At least that was what he was trying to convince himself of, there was no way it was the other thing. He had never looked at a guy like that before why he would start now. Though come to think of it…he had never looked at a girl either…what the hell was wrong with him?

…

"Morning," Dean smiled throwing his duffel bag underneath the desk making Sam wonder what on earth he was carrying in there. Sure he had seen teachers with briefcases and backpacks but a duffle? Unless he planned on moving in or taking over the gym class.

"Oh it's good now." Chelsea the cheerleader type quipped causing the girls around her all begin to laugh. "Mr…"

"Smith," Dean smirked winking towards her seeming to revel in the attention the girls were throwing his way.

"Aren't you too young to be our teacher?" Maddison called out crossing her arms to her chest and raising her eyebrows being the only one seeming to still care about their education twenty minutes into their current lesson.

"Student teacher," Dean replied easily enough pushing the elder gentleman's feet off of the desk and grabbing the chair beside him, smirking as the man grumbled something under his breath. "So err," Dean peered around the room tapping his fingers against the desk like he was lost in thought. He picked up the nearest book and flicked it open before throwing it to the floor in disgust. "English huh," he scoffed rolling his eyes to which the elder man nudged him in the side. "I mean English yay," he added sarcastically causing the students to laugh and the other man to roll his eyes. "English is a language," Dean added continuing to tap his fingers.

Chelsea's hand shot up causing Dean's eyebrows to raise. "Mr Smith how old are you?"

"Eighteen," Dean replied.

"Are you single Sir?"

"Now that was a question, see learning," Dean added reaching down into the pocket of his leather jacket that he had thrown over the chair previously to place something in it.

"For fuck sake," the elder man growled throwing his paper onto the table and pushing himself to his feet. He grasped hold of the book that Dean had previously discarded before shooting the teenager an incredulous look. If Sam didn't know any better he would say that the pair seemed to know each other on a basis that was more than teacher and student. "Shakespeare…just kill me now," the elder man muttered before starting to read from the page that the previous teacher had left off on.

Dean smirked as he settled down in the chair that the elder man had previously vacated, a smile was plastered across his face and his green eyes were glinting. Sam had to stifle a laugh though not well enough from the strange look that Jess was shooting him. Pressing a hand to his mouth he tried to tune in to what the elder man was saying though his eyes kept being drawn to Dean who was now rocking on the chair to the annoyance of the other man. His eyes were roaming the room until they locked onto Sam's. A flash of recognition crossed his face before Dean's smile softened. Their eyes stayed connected for a couple of moments before Sam realised that it was bordering on the edge of staring. A faint blush crept up his cheeks while he tore his eyes away from the elder teen, he could feel heat pool in the pit of his stomach like something had been awakened inside of him. He was scared about what this could all mean. There was something more going on and he wasn't sure he wanted to admit it.

He turned his attention to his book trying to tune out everything that was going on around him. He could feel Dean's eyes bore into the side of his head for a moment longer before something else seemed to captivate his attention. Sam tried to quell the blush from spreading any further. He hoped to god that no one had noticed. He was having a hard time trying to explain to himself let alone anyone else what was happening.

…

Before too long the bell rang out signalling the end of that period. Sam packed up his things and practically sprinted out of the door ignoring Jess's calls. He had to get out of there, he needed space to breathe. He legged it into the nearest toilets, threw himself into a cubicle and slammed the door. He sank down on the toilet seat and hung his head between his legs ignoring the raging pain in his side and the rushing of his blood through his body. He closed his eyes and attempted to calm his breathing down, one, two, then out, three, four, then out. He repeated this mantra for a couple of moments until he felt like he could compose himself. Slowly he allowed his eyes to open and he peered down at his shoes.

What was wrong with him? What he thought would start as a normal school term could turn into this? He had never had a reaction like that to anyone, yes of course he had popped an awkward boner or two he was fourteen but he had never felt…attraction…that was the only way to describe this…he was attracted to Dean…another male…oh god.

Running a shaking hand through his hair he felt like the pieces of the puzzle had started to fall into place. Why he was so oblivious to Jess's advances, why no one had turned his head, why everyone would give him strange looks when everyone else was out dating and messing around and he was at home with his books. So what did that make him?

He let out a breath as he heard the bathroom door open. Whistling echoed throughout the room along with the sound of someone relieving themselves. Knowing that he had to come out soon before it begun to look suspicious. Slowly he pushed himself off of the toilet letting out a yelp as the pain in his ribs began to make itself known once more. The whistle paused as Sam bit his lip hoping that the person would just go away but his luck was never that good.

"Hello?" the voice called out and Sam mentally groaned, of fucking course it had to have been Dean, the older teen who had given him this complex in the first place even though he knew it wasn't his fault. "You ok?"

Sam mentally swore readjusting himself and flicking the lock off on the door, pushing it open to reveal Dean standing behind it with a confused expression on his face. "Erm hi," Sam stammered shuffling over to the sink washing his hands because he wasn't going to be known as the guy who spent ten minutes in the toilet who didn't even bother to wash his hands.

"You good kid?" Dean asked his eyes scrutinising Sam making the younger teen blush, damn he needed to get his hormones under control.

"Yep," Sam replied needing to get out of there as soon as he could, he felt like he was drowning but he wasn't sure that it was a bad thing. All these new feelings that were stirring inside of him were threatening to consume him, he just needed time alone with his right hand to sort himself out. And wasn't it awkward when your newly acquired gay crush was standing right in front of you after your own epiphany. He didn't know whether he should laugh or cry.

"Right," Dean replied shaking his head clearly Sam was a better actor in his head than what he was in real life. "Take off your shirt."

Sam blinked…err what? He couldn't have heard what he thought he heard. "Huh..?" he stammered mentally berating himself he must have sounded like a fucking idiot, just the impression he wanted to make.

"Take off your shirt," ok he heard that again…"Let me see your ribs," Dean added his tone becoming annoyed.

Sam drew in a deep breath and slowly lifted up the hem of his shirt though he wasn't sure why. Dean inhaled sharply causing Sam to look down himself. Damn…his side was littered with red boot prints with the skin turning a dark shade of purple, if he looked hard enough he could see the imprint of the sole of Stephen's shoe on his skin like it was a tattoo, a permanent reminder of the bully who had tormented him for the past year or so. Now he understood where the pain had been coming from.

"Fuck that looks like it smarts like a bitch," Dean declared leaning closer to Sam. "I got some bandages in the car let me wrap those for you," he gestured to Sam's side. "Trust me Sammy boy it will help."

"It's Sam," Sam bit back though he found himself lowering his shirt and following the elder teen out of the bathroom to some raised eyebrows though he mostly ignored them, well he tried to but his cheeks seemed to have another idea. He could feel the heat instantly flood into his face what was like him and becoming a stuttering hormonal teenager all of a sudden.

…

Dean led him around the back to the parking lot and then further still until they reached the edge of the school. There sitting underneath an old oak tree sat a black beauty. The paint shined in the afternoon sun practically glistening underneath the attention like the car was basking in it. It was apparent that it was well looked over if the smile of pride crossing Dean's face was any indication.

"My baby," Dean declared pulling his keys from his jacket pocket. He walked over to his trunk pulling it open. Sam walked around the car wanting to run his fingers across it but not wanting to leave any dirty marks. "1967 Chevy Impala," Dean added retrieving some medical supplies from his bag that he appeared to have in the back. Maybe he was like a boy scout that had everything on him just in case. "My Dad gave her to me on my eighteenth," he continued closing the trunk and rounding on Sam.

Sam lifted his shirt his eyes turning to the school not wanting to stare at the older boy. He felt Dean's fingers gently probe his bruises appearing to be satisfied that there were no apparent breaks. Before long he felt the bandages pull tight at his skin and the fire dancing across his skin was suddenly dulled down to a gentle roar. He could deal with that. The tips of Dean's fingers stroked against his bare skin and he had to think about anything else to stop the blood from rushing straight down to his groin. Dean yanked on the bandages once more making sure they were tight and tying it off at the end. He patted Sam's side smirking as Sam shot him a glare.

"All done squirt," Dean teased throwing the supplies through his open window seeming to not want to put them back.

"Hey Dean," Sam said still holding his shirt up. "Thanks for earlier."

"Don't mention it dude," Dean replied shrugging his shoulders.

"OH MY GOD SAM WHAT HAPPENED?" a high pitch female voice called out making Sam groan.

He turned his head to the side and noticed a blond hair girl sprinting over towards them.

"Girlfriend?" Dean teased.

"Twin," Sam replied as Jo made it to his side. Her fingers probed at the bandages not caring that she was hurting him in the process. He hung his head as he heard her ramble on about all the things she wanted to do to Stephen though he wasn't listening. He was peering at Dean through his hair, Dean who was smirking at them with his green eyes bright in the sunlight.

Ok so Sam had a crush on Dean Smith, an eighteen year old student teacher who saved him from a bully and apparently knew about first aid as well. He had a crush on another man. And you know what he was alright with that…

TBC? ( **Hope that was ok, let me know if you still want me to continue, those who read the original I know the story has changed slightly but I wanted to take a different angle on this one so I really hope you enjoy just as much. Thank you for reading and if you could be so kind as to leave a review it would make my day hearing what you have to say. Thank you again and see you in Chapter Three)**


	3. Chapter 3

"Did you see his eyes," Jo groaned chewing on the tip of her pen lid with her eyes staring into space clearly her homework had been forgotten meaning she was now distracting Sam. "And those muscles," she whistled. "He must work out." She continued drool practically running out of the corner of her mouth to which Sam wrinkled his nose up in disgust to. "What do you think?" she turned her attention back to Sam who was doing his best to ignore her though it was hard to concentrate when she would not stop talking. "Sam…Sammy!"

"Don't call me Sammy," Sam automatically bit out sighing and throwing his pen down on the table knowing that he would not get a chance to focus when she was hung up on the eighteen year old. Not that he could blame her, he himself had been thinking about Dean ever since that afternoon. He was just not as vocal as his twin is. "Sammy is a chubby twelve year old."

"Naww, you will always be our Sammy," Jo pouted reaching out to pinch his cheeks though he batted her hand away. "So what do you think of him?"

"Don't call me that," Sam bit out again annoyed that she continued to ignore him no matter what he said. "Who?" he added feigning ignorance like he had not just been listening to her rattle on for the past god knows how long. He loved his twin and yes they did have a bond like no other but that didn't mean he didn't have times when all he wanted to do was to strangle her. The usual brother sister, well any sibling relationship. "I don't know what you are talking about," he replied reaching for his pen once more and attempting to complete his homework that needed to be done for the next morning. He would get into so much trouble if it was late once again. The last time Stephen had decided that his homework would make better paper hats.

"Dean of course…wait…are you avoiding the question…" she mocked her eyes flashing at him with her mischievous intent. Pulling his paper up to his face he buried his nose in his work blocking his twin out though this did not stop her from continuing to run her mouth. The numbers starting to blur but he continued to stare trying to will himself into growing superpowers and turning invisible. "I can still see you, it was cute when we were five," Jo's voice still continued to grate inside of his head. Gritting his teeth he lowered his homework, gathered his pen before pushing himself to his feet. "Oh come on Sam I'm just teasing…"

Sam scoffed shaking his head picking up the rest of his stuff. He stuffed the paper in the bag not caring that it was most likely going to get crumpled or ripped, it was no good he wasn't going to be able to complete it tonight as it was. Not when Jo refused to leave him alone, or that his mind wouldn't stop thinking about Dean Smith. His cheeks heated up just at the thought of the elder teenager and he prayed that it was not visible, he did not need to give her some ammunition. Shaking his head he kicked his backpack under his bed before pushing himself to his full height.

"Where are you going?" Jo huffed pushing her own homework off of her side of the room probably never to be seen again knowing her. "I was just joking…do you...?"

"Shut up," Sam hissed barging his way out of the door ignoring her calls. He didn't want to get into it with her…ever…not when he himself didn't understand what he was feeling. Not completely. Never in his life had he looked at another male, he was confused at what that could mean and at the moment all he wanted to do was bury his head in the sand and hope that he would make it through the next few weeks of Dean's student teaching rotation.

He huffed shaking his head at the sound of his twin's voice continuing to call after him. He made his way down the hallway pushing the large wooden double doors that lead into the living area open. He jumped at the huge form that was apparently blocking his entrance. Ok huge might have been an overstatement but the man in front of him was alike any he had ever seen before. Steely brown eyes peered down at him, they were full of mistrust and annoyance like he wanted to be anywhere but there at that moment in time. His hair was black with white streaks littered through it and he had a thick beard covering up the tight line of his mouth. His chest was broad with muscles apparently hiding underneath his dark jacket. There was something familiar about him though the teenager was sure that he had never seen him before in his life. He might have been a patron of the bar but the Roadhouse was situated out in the middle of nowhere that there were rarely any new faces to be seen or ones that ever came back that was.

"Sorry," he mumbled squeezing past the small space the man had cleared for him. Feeling his cheeks flush red he peered up at his father who was smiling warmly down at him.

"Sam," Bill greeted him ruffling his hair as he came to a stop beside him.

"Dad," Sam replied his eyes cautiously staring up at the other man trying to get some kind of read off of him. He had always prided himself to be a good judge of character but this man…he was holding his cards close to his chest. He seemed to be a man of secrecy, a secret that Sam did not want to discover. "I didn't hear you get back," he added tearing his eyes away from the stranger though he kept him in his periphery.

"We just got in," Bill smiled down at Sam though he could tell it was forced.

"We?" he questioned.

"How about you go and see if your mother wants a hand," Bill interrupted him quickly pressing a hand to the small of Sam's back and effectively pushing him out of the door. "I'll come see you in a minute," he smiled down at the teenager before shutting the door in Sam's face leaving him bewildered and confused at the same time. What the hell was that? His father's job had always been a mystery to him but he guessed it was because he didn't have just one job role. He always seemed to be running odd jobs for various people, sometimes it was plumbing other times it was carpentry and that was just a few examples he had been given throughout his life. Not once had he brought someone back with him be it work colleague or client…what was going on?

Frowning he tilted his head towards the bar where he could see his mother's back as she cleaned out whiskey tumblers ready for the night shift. Satisfied that she was distracted he slowly pressed his body against the door, careful not to make any sudden movement or noises that could attract any attention. He pushed his hair behind his ear and grabbed the door handle. Biting his lip he forced the door to open a crack so that he could hear his father's voice filter through.

"Are you sure?" he could hear his father say the worry evident in his voice.

"Trust me," the other man had a deep gruff voice that vibrated through Sam's body causing chills to run down his spine.

"But he's just a boy…"

"No he's not," the man growled his tone becoming almost feral.

"No you're right," his father sighed. "He never was."

"And the way you are raising your children is better?" the man hissed his voice becoming dangerous.

"They are getting a childhood…"

"They are weak, they are vulnerable."

"At least they don't go to bed with a gun under their pillow or wake up not knowing if the day will be their last. The twins have a life John and I will not change that no matter what you say. I will not let them go down the same path…"

"Then you will have to be prepared to bury them," the man scoffed. "An unprepared hunter is a dead one."

…

"SAMUEL!" the screeching call of his name had him jumping out of his skin. He allowed the door to slip from his hands causing the two men's focus to fall on him. The John guy looked smug while his father looked like a deer that had been caught in the headlights. Guilt flushed through him and he attempted to stifle his bubbling panic that was threatening to overwhelm him. Turning on his heels he plastered on his best fake smile as he came face to face with his mother. "What do you think you are doing?" she questioned crossing her arms to her chest and raising her eyebrows at him. Her whole façade was screaming out anger although he could tell that she was also panicking. What was going on with everyone?

"Nothing," he replied.

"Sure looks like nothing," she scoffed unfolding her arms and grabbing hold of the nearest tea towel. "Start cleaning," she threw it at him as she firmly closed the door that he had been peering through blocking the men from their sight.

Sam sighed making his way towards the bar he sat down on the nearest stool, grabbing the towel he started to clean a random glass though his mind was not focused on the task at hand. He had no idea what was going on and he was sure as hell going to find out. What did they mean they were vulnerable? From who? Hunters? What did they hunt? And what did he mean his father would have to bury them? He might not have known much at that moment but he did know that he didn't like that John…not one single bit.

…

"Mum's pissed off," Jo commented throwing the towel on the bar top. It had been busy in the roadhouse that evening meaning that they both had to chip in to help out their mother. Their father had been too busy with that John doing who knew what. Sam's eyes had been drawn to that closed door the whole night too distracted to deal with their usual drunks and those who liked to tell him the same story over and over again like he had not heard it a million times before. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Sam replied continuing to stare at the door like he would magically be able to hear everything that was going on.

"What is wrong with you?" Jo questioned peering at the door like she was trying to work out what he was seeing.

"Something's going on," he replied never able to keep much from his twin. It was true what they say, they really are like one person sometimes. "I want to know what."

"You know Dad likes to keep his work private," Jo hissed.

"Do you ever wonder why?"

"No."

"Oh come on."

"Ok yes but he has his reasons."

"What reasons?"

Jo opened her mouth like she was going to come up with some kind of clever remark or smart reasoning though no words escaped her lips. It appeared that even she who had a damned answer for everything was lost for words. "I don't know," she admitted. "He would tell us if it was important."

"Really," Sam scoffed. "He disappears for days at a time without so much as a goodbye and we are expected to just understand…" he trailed off his eyes narrowing towards the door. There was more than one way to find out what was going on. He threw his rubber gloves and disinfectant onto the nearest table before striding out of the room. Jo hot on his heels.

"Sam where are you going?" Jo whispered as they passed the door to the living room to walk down the corridor towards the back door.

"To get some answers." He replied unlocking the patio door and striding out into the night. He peered at the window that was concealed by a thick curtain. Coming to a stop he lifted his arms up to the nearest tree and pulled himself up onto the branch. Settling himself down he pulled off one of the branches smaller arms along with the leaves. Sticking his tongue out in concentration he leaned forward on the branch holding the stick in his hand. He prodded at the outside latch on the top window, grasping it with the end of the stick he pulled slowly feeling the lock move. Smirking he managed to lift the latch off with the window naturally falling open on its own accord. A trick Jo and he had mastered years ago when they were trying to find out what their parents had gotten them for Christmas. Ellen and Bill had always been surprised every year when the twins had managed to predict ninety percent of the wrapped packages.

He could hear their voices filter through the night though he had to shuffle towards the end of the branch in order to make out any full sentences about what was being said. Jo had joined him by this point she too seemed interested to know exactly what was going on.

"…you can't seriously think that this is a good idea…" their mother's voice called out clearly angry.

"You have a better one?" John seemed to reply.

"Ellen…" their father called out.

"No don't Ellen me…"

"He will prove himself," John interrupted.

"Jesus John this is not about him proving himself…he's a kid for fuck sake," Ellen added.

"He's eighteen."

"So…"

"Ellen honey."

"No Bill you cannot be ok with this?"

"It doesn't matter he is in place," John replied.

"You're a heartless bastard," Ellen hissed.

"It makes me heartless to teach my boy how to defend himself how to make a difference…"

"You took his childhood away from him," Ellen interrupted this time.

"No the son of a bitch who killed Mary done that," John replied.

"Look Ellen this is the best plan that we have…"

"I'm not alright with this, your boy best be as good as you say he is…"

"He is."

"Fine but after this I want you gone."

The sound of mumbling occurred after that with the noise of movement. Sam stayed where he was concealed with Jo holding onto his arm. They both sat there clearly unable to comprehend anything of what had just been said. He was about to move when the back doors opened, John stepped out grumbling to himself he delved into his coat pocket to retrieve his portable phone. Continuing to mumble he punched in some numbers, holding this up to his ear he waited for the person on the other end to answer.

"It's me," he coughed out a short reply. "We are on….yes…Bill and I will be in place…Yes all goes to plan you won't have to do anything…No buts…No I don't want you on the front line for this…No…You are on protection duty…Bobby will be back up…we will call you in if you are needed…Good…Stay safe…you too Dean…" John hung up the phone and placed it back in his pocket. He inhaled deeply before making his way back into the building slamming the door shut behind him.

Sam's mouth fell open…Dean…that had to be a coincidence…right?

TBC ( **Thank you for reading and those who review, hope you are enjoying and let me know what you think. Thanks again and see you all in chapter four!)**


	4. Chapter 4

After the conversation the twins had eavesdropped on, John had taken his leave quickly with their father in tow while Ellen had rushed them both off to bed on the reasoning it was a school day the next day. Though neither one of them were able to actually get any proper sleep. Sam needed to know what was going on what the big secret they were hiding from them was. There had always been this dark cloud hovering over his family, something their father and mother wouldn't tell them and it was clear that this put a strain on their marriage. Sam might have only been fourteen but he was old enough and mature to handle whatever it was that they were hiding. He was not a little kid anymore that needed protecting.

Sam yawned trying to hide it behind his fist, his eyes roamed to the clock above the door hopelessly counting down the seconds until the bell for home rang. As it was it was only currently eleven in the morning, just another four hours or so to go. Jess was sitting beside him, nudging him once in a while when it seemed that he was seconds away from actually falling asleep. Their teacher was droning on about something, not that Sam could tell you what or even what lesson he was currently in. His words were melting into one to the point where they didn't make sense so he stopped listening. His mind was focusing on what he was going to say to his mother when they got home that evening. He wanted to come clean to her, tell her what he heard in the hopes that she would finally reveal to him what the big secret was. The only conclusion he had come to was that his father was some kind of spy…yeah he didn't believe it either but with all the secrecy surrounding them he would be surprised if it was something else.

He groaned as he glanced at the time once more to see that only a minute had passed. This day was going to be hell he could tell that already. Giving up with pretending to pay attention he placed his arm on his desk and folded his head into the crook of his elbow. Yes he would he getting dirty looks right now but Mr Wright was not the kind to confront any of his students. He was an elderly gentleman who taught history because he was history. No one knew exactly how old he was, there was a running bet going on throughout the school, Sam's current bet was around ninety. Everyone was waiting for the day when he revealed his age once and for all.

Jess huffed beside him and he couldn't help but grin. He opened his mouth to say something when there was a massive bang coming from the car park. Sam's head shot up instantly, Mr Wright fell silent along with all the students as they waited with bated breathes. There had been many a drills in what to do in case of emergencies, from fires, to earthquakes and even school shootings. Sam silently prayed that it was just a case of a car backfiring nothing more…No such luck as the sound echoed out again, this time it sounded closer.

"Children under your desks," Mr Wright hissed out slowly pushing his chair out from under him and lowering himself to his creaking knees.

Without hesitating Sam grabbed hold of Jess's hand as they both clambered underneath their desks, with the rest of the class following suit. None of them seeming to understand what was happening. Jess huddled into his side with her head burrowing into the crook of his neck, his hair softly brushing her cheek like she was finding some kind of security around him. Not that he knew why, there wasn't anything he could do. He just hoped that to whoever was in the building the classroom would appear to be empty. It was their best hope.

The banging echoed throughout the silent room, becoming louder with every occurrence. Sam fought the urge to flinch every time. He could hear Jess's soft sobs along with other students who were trying to keep quiet but were finding it almost impossible. It was these situations that you saw on TV, read in the newspapers but would never ever think you would find yourself facing one. It was like something out of a movie and he didn't know what he could do. They were on the third floor, not too high to jump out the window but high enough they would cause serious damage if they did. Sam guessed their only hope would be that the authorities acting quickly enough to stop whoever this was.

There were a series of rapid bangs before the corridor outside of their classroom fell silent. Footsteps echoed breaking through the eerie atmosphere that had fallen the once buzzing school. With every step that come closer Sam's heart started to pound in his chest. He wanted to run, he wanted to break out and find his twin, though he took relief in the fact that he felt like she was still around. He always knew when she was hurt, the kind of twin telepathy that people joked about was actually sort of a real phenomenon. Drawing in a shaky breath he wrapped his arms around Jess and brought her into his chest, this he could do. Silently praying that somehow they would make it out of this in one piece.

The footsteps stopped right outside of the door, he could hear the muffled screams of some of the students. Looking around at the faces staring at each other underneath their desks. Some of the guys had their arms around their girls, trying to hide them away, others had tear stains on their cheeks while the ones who were meant to be the jock types cowered in the far corners. Sam could see determination cross Mr Wright's face, his mouth was set in a tight line with his shoulders pushed back. There was an old fire dancing in his eyes and Sam knew that he would sacrifice himself in an instant if it came down to it.

The handle to the door jiggled, thank god they had the sense to lock the door before the lesson had even started. Another one of Mr Wright's quirkiness that seemed to actually have paid off for once. The door handle danced for a few more minutes before the person on the other side started to bang against the door determined to gain access. This time the students started to scream the pretence of an empty classroom seeming to have failed.

"Everyone to the back of the room," Mr Wright called pushing himself out from under the desk. "Quickly," he added waving his arms at the students. Without hesitation Sam untangled himself from Jess, though still holding onto her hand, he pushed himself to his feet and followed the panicking crowd to the far corner of the room. The students huddled together trying to create some kind of wall he supposed. With Mr Wright standing directly in front of them. Sam's eyes turned towards the nearest window that was open a crack, they had no choice if they wanted to survive. He nodded to Jess who seemed to agree with him for once.

The door slammed open, pieces of wood come flying off of it with the hinges collapsing inwards. The door landed inside the classroom echoing throughout the room. It sounded like an explosion because the atmosphere was so tense. Through the dust of the wood a figure started to appear. He was tall, with broad shoulders…his hair was cut close to his head though it was longer on top and in his hands the tell-tale sign of a gleam of a gun was evident. This was it…

Sam held his breath as the dust settled and the intruder made his way into the classroom, coming closer to students. His face becoming clear…what the fuck….

…

"Dean?" Sam breathed out his heart hammering fiercely in his chest. No it can't be…he wouldn't…But there was no mistaking those intense green eyes, ones that were fixed firmly on Mr Wright. His thumb cocked back the hammer of his gun with it aiming squarely at the teacher's chest. No this cannot be happening…the man he had been crushing over…no… "Dean…no don't do this," he pleaded hoping that he could appeal to the elder teens softer side, the side that had made him stand up to Stephen Hemming and save a kid he did not know. "Please…" he begged feeling Jess squeeze his hand tightly in warning. He didn't care if this made him a target, he just needed to understand why the student teacher wanted to do this. He didn't know what had switched in Dean's mind to make him want to attack a school…the conversation from the previous night with his parents was present in the front of his mind. Had they known this was happening? Was John trying to warn them about his son? Or did he set it up?

"Stay back Sam," Dean growled his attention never wavering away from the older man.

"You can't do this…" Sam stammered taking in the sight of the blood littering the front of Dean's leather jacket. "Oh god," he choked out. "How many have you killed?" he added this time turning the elder teenager's attention to him. Dean's brows furrowed as he himself look down at his clothing seeming to release that he was covered in blood. "Just let us go," he continued knowing that he was practically begging right now.

"Yes Dean how many?" Mr Wright interrupted his voice sounding confident despite the danger of the gun.

"You son of a bitch," Dean growled lifting the weapon so that it was flush with the elder man's temple.

Feeling a strange sense of determination crossing over him Sam dropped Jessica's hand and stepped in front of Mr Wright. He held his own hands up to show the elder teenager that he was not a threat. This was not the Dean he had come to know…at least thought he knew. He ignored the screams of the other students as the gun was now level to his own heart. He felt confident that Dean wouldn't shoot him…at least he hoped not. "I can't let you do this," he warned watching the anger cross the elder teen's eyes. "Just put the gun down."

"Dammit Sammy move," Dean commanded the use of the nickname still caused Sam's heart to constrict even with the current situation. The gun still aiming firmly not phasing Dean in the slightest. With his heart hammering even more hoping that had not misread the other man he held his hands up higher to show that he was still not going to be a threat.

"No, you will not shoot me…" Sam retorted hoping he sounded more confident with that statement than what he actually felt.

"No Dean won't shoot you," Mr Wright laughed. The students screamed at the same time Sam felt something cold press against his neck. He felt rather than saw the blade pressing against his throat and the aged hand that was holding it. "Now Winchester lower the gun or I will cut little Harvelle's throat." The teacher cackled pushing Sam forward so that Dean had to step to the side to allow them to past. Mr Wright turned them so that his back was to the door with Sam pushed firmly against his chest, they faced the students who looked terrified and confused all at the same time.

Dean sneered as he dropped his gun to the floor, his face was like thunder with his green eyes flashing dangerously. His own hands lifted in the air to show that he was no unarmed. "Let him go," he demanded. "It's not him you want."

"No?" Mr Wright laughed leaning down so that his mouth was at Sam's ear. A foul stench rolled out of his mouth, one that reminded him a lot like rotten eggs, making his stomach roll with nausea. "But this is so much fun…though I was expecting the older Winchester not the pint size one," he continued. "I can just imagine the look on your Daddy's faces when I send you back to him piece by piece," those last words were aimed at Sam.

"I don't understand," Sam choked out not wanting to say much more due to the current threat of the knife which was now sitting comfortably on his artery.

"Poor little Samuel, shut out of his own family…makes my heart bleed," Mr Wright laughed.

Dean's eyes drifted down to Sam briefly before flicking up to the teachers hand that was still holding the knife. His head inclined to the right slightly while his hands remained in the air giving the pretence of submitting to the crazed teacher. Mr Wright continued to speak not seeming to be aware of the small exchange. Dean nodded softly at Sam with a slight smile to his lips for encouragement. Feeling a strange sense of strength rush threw him Sam tilted his head back, forcing the knife away from his throat he slammed his head into the teacher's face breaking his concentration and his nose at the same time. Sam felt the blade slice along his neck but it was shallow enough to not be an issue.

Dean leapt forward, his hand grasped hold of the blade, forcing the man's arm backwards he allowed Sam the chance to fall to his knees and crawl out of the way. His own hands reaching up to cup onto his now bleeding throat. Jess's worried arms wrapped around his shoulders though he didn't pay attention to her. His eyes were locked onto the sight of Dean who currently had managed to disarm the teacher and retrieve his gun.

Dean pointed the barrel of the gun at Mr Wright's head. "Bullets really?" the teacher laughed his eyes flashing pure black. "I thought Daddy would have taught you better," he added holding his hand out towards Dean who somehow went flying backwards into the desk knocking it to the floor. Sam stifled the scream that wanted to break out of his lips. He had gone from standing up to who he thought was the school shooter to cheering him on against their history teacher who for some reason had wanted to kill him. Ok yes it wasn't like he had been paying attention today but to kill him for it…and his eyes…he was going to need some serious therapy if they made it out of here today.

Mr Wright pushed himself to his feet in time to see Dean emerge with an alcohol flask. He flicked the contents at the elderly man, smoke billowed off of him as he fell to his knees once more, grasping hold of his face.

Sam scrambled forward and grasped hold of Dean's gun. "Dean!" he called out throwing it towards the elder teenager who nodded at him in appreciation as he caught it. Without hesitating Dean pulled the trigger, sending a bullet into the teacher's shoulder who screeched inhumanly at the impact.

"They shouldn't have let me escape," Mr Wright laughed. "They killed my family I will kill theirs," he laughed opening his mouth a thick black cloud escaped his lips. The smoke spun up to the ceiling disappearing beyond their line of sight.

"Shit," Dean hissed lowering the teacher onto the floor and flicking the safety on his weapon. He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans before turning to face the thirty or so students who were peering at him out of shock. "Double shit," he breathed out running a shaking hand through his hair, his whole body was vibrating and there was a genuine feel of enjoyment buzzing around him. Something that Sam could not understand. In fact everything about last night and today had been one massive mind fuck. What the hell was that? "Ok what you just saw…." Dean stammered his eyes darting in his head trying to figure out what to say. "You tell the authorities that Mr Wright tried to save you ok…"

"But…" one of the students stammered.

"No, he tried to save you, end of," Dean interrupted his voice sharp and straight to the point. "What you saw today, forget it," he added trying to wipe the dried blood off of his jacket. "No one will believe you anyway."

As one the students slowly nodded like they themselves were starting to doubt with that they had just witnessed.

"Awesome," Dean breathed out. "The right corridor is clear, you run until you reach the playground. Don't stop," he commanded stepping over the teacher's body to place two figures at the base of his neck seeming to be feeling for a pulse. "You two," he pointed to two males who were wearing letterman jackets. "Take him with you," he added slinging Mr Wright's shoulder over his own and forcing the unconscious teacher to his feet. He passed him onto the students who reluctantly followed Dean's orders not able to deny the man that had just most likely saved all their lives. "What are you waiting for," Dean snapped breaking the students out of the trance. "Go."

Most of the class didn't need telling twice, they moved quicker than they ever had before with Jess trying to get Sam to go with them but he told her that he would catch up to her. "Dean," he called out. "What just happened?"

"Nothing," Dean replied reaching for the nearest fire alarm point, breaking the glass he pulled the alarm with the bells ringing out instantly. "Your sister…"

"Jo."

"Jo what class is she in?"

"She has gym."

"Great thanks," Dean replied pushing Sam's shoulders to force him out of the door. "Shit," he grumbled again pushing the younger teen back into the room. "Help me with the desk," he ordered. As one the pair pushed the teacher's desk up onto the side and placed this in the space where the door had once stood before Dean had kicked it in. Dean ducked down behind it, pushing Sam down with him he placed a finger to his lips. Two pairs of footsteps came rushing down the hallway, heavy ones that seemed to be belong to an adult.

Sam peered over the edge of the desk, on the other side of the door were two men, both were looking down at them…their eyes pitch black.

"RUN!" Dean shouted grabbing hold of Sam's hand he jumped on top of the desk, with his free hand he pushed open one of the ceiling tiles before actively lifting Sam into the roof, into the vents that he had never known to be there.

Sam heard a few shots being fired before Dean himself climbed into the vent beside Sam. His body was pressed up close against the younger teenager and from this angle he could see the thick stream of blood oozing out of the side of Dean's head.

"That won't stun them for long," Dean grumbled. "We need to get to the gym."

So that was how Sam Harvelle found himself navigating through the vents of the school with the man he had been crushing on, to find his sister and stop whoever…or whatever those people were that were trying to kill him. So yeah just another manic Monday…

TBC ( **Hey everyone! I hope you are enjoying this story, thank you all so much for reading and those who leave a lovely review. It means the world to hear from you so please keep them coming. I'm really excited to be writing this story again, I loved it the first time round and I hope it can make it even better! Thanks again and see you all in chapter five!)**


	5. Chapter 5

"Why are they trying to kill us?" Sam whispered focusing on putting one hand in front of the other while they crawled their way as silently as they could through the vents. Underneath them the shrill call of the fire alarm was still ringing helping to disguise at the very most some of the noise they had to have been making. At least the younger teenager had hoped. "I mean it has to do with us both right?" he added trying to talk some logical sense into the situation but no matter how he looked and it he came to the same conclusion which was there was no conclusion. "I haven't done anything."

"Sam shut up," Dean hissed from directly behind him.

Sam shook his head as a previously unexplored anger began to burn inside of his chest. With his actions being controlled by his emotions he came to a stop feeling the older teen crawl into him. He sat down on the back of his legs and crossed his arms to his chest effectively mimicking a petulant child at this point. Forgetting the whole there are people after them who wants to kill them and the fact that they were meant to be going to find his sister. "No I need to know what is going on," he pouted out into the dark barely able to see the silhouette of the elder teenager. "My teacher just tried to kill me…you…you have a gun and know what you are doing…who are you?" he questioned.

"We don't have time for this," Dean growled his voice brushing at Sam's neck. "The less you know the better kid."

"I'm not a kid."

"In this you are."

"You are four years older than me…"

"You know what let's have a chat, let's sit here and have a chick flick and let everyone die…" Dean's words trailed off as Sam heard him draw in a deep breath. "Those…men…" he seemed to settle on that word like it was not the one he wanted to use. "They won't stop unless I stop them." Sam felt Dean's hand settle on his shoulder, his touch causing heat to spread through his skin. He really needed to control his hormones. "We get out of this I will tell you..."

"You promise? Not like one of those parents promises when they just want you to shut up. This means something Dean…if someone is going to keep trying to kill me I deserve to know why."

Dean sighed his hand moving away from Sam's shoulder though the appendage still burned with the ghost of the touch. "We need to find Jo," he replied seeming to avoid Sam's previous statement. Sam frowned into the darkness but he knew better than to complain. Pushing those thoughts to the side he continued to navigate through the darkness hoping that the elder teen knew where they were heading.

"Wait," Dean called out bringing them both to a stop. Sam's hand hovered over the top of an open grate, light filtered up into their faces causing them to squint. Before Sam had time to react a hand reached out and grasped the scruff of his shirt pulling him roughly out of the vent. He yelped as he was rough handed down onto the ground. He rolled to the side and kicked at the hands that were continuing to pin him on the floor. His vision was blurred as his eyes attempted to adjust to the harsh light where they had been used to the pure darkness moments earlier.

"Get off me," he grunted continuing to resist the movements. He kicked his legs out and felt satisfied at the pained hiss of the other man. He blinked fiercely feeling the hands move away from his chest as he could slowly make out the shape of the figure above him. Vaguely he could see what he thought was a baseball hat on the man's head, his hands were clasped to his nose where a stream of blood was pouring through his fingers. Second time today he had broken one of those assholes noses. Feeling a sense of pride wash over him he pushed himself to a sitting position and was just about to call to Dean when he noticed the older teen standing beside him. His gun was in his hands and he was shaking his head laughing at the figure. "What?" he questioned his eyes starting to show him more of his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was that they were currently in the boys locker rooms, the second was that the blood on Dean's head seemed to be drying up and the third was that the man he had thought was trying to kill him was the substitute teacher that had been in the classroom alongside Dean.

"Thanks I get, you idjit," the man grumbled moving his blood soaked hands away from his clearly broken nose.

"You did grab him Bobby," Dean laughed clicking the safety on his gun as he pulled out a fresh mag of ammo from the duffle that had magically appeared on one of the benches. Sam watched as he expertly handled his weapon like it was an extension of his own arm. There was a strange grace to Dean that one would not expect upon first seeing him.

"Thought he was you," Bobby added pushing himself to his feet to grab a shotgun that he must have previously discarded. "Harvelle boy?" his question was directed to Dean who nodded while he placed the gun into the waistband of his jeans. "Damn," Bobby replied.

"Who are you?" Sam asked his eyes narrowing at the pair who clearly knew each other very well. Well enough to pretend to be a teacher and student teacher a couple of days earlier. Things were starting to piece together in his head and the more he thought about the more he didn't want to know. John was talking to Dean last night, he was the plan that was in place and the whole conversation they must have had would have had to do with this moment here surely. So then why did it feel like things hadn't gone to plan? Whatever their big plan was?

"Bobby Singer," Bobby Singer replied.

"He's a family friend," Dean added pocketing another flask full of that water. "Boy am I glad to see you."

"Your Daddy sent me in, said that you would be heading here."

"He inside?"

"Yeah and Bill too."

"Ok," Dean grinned patting Bobby firmly on the back. "Fight the good fight," he winked at the older man who shook his head fondly. He turned his attention to Sam who was staring at the pair with an incredulous look. He opened his mouth to say something when the locker room doors burst open.

…

The doors fell inwards eerily mimicking the same scene from earlier when Dean had broken into the classroom. Bobby was sent sprawling into the nearest locker, his broken nose spewing blood once more. Dean was slammed into the far wall, his head cracking against the plaster with pieces of it falling down onto him. He struggled against the apparent invisible restraints while his eyes stared daggers at the figure in front of them.

Sam on the other hand remained where he was, untouched by the seemingly invisible force. His eyes were locked onto the familiar blue, his hands itched to reach out to the man in front of him but the usual safety that he felt in the man's presence was replaced with the impending and overwhelming feeling of dread. He was backed into a corner staring into eyes he had known for the whole of his life however now they seemed different. "Dad," he breathed out seeing a smile stretch across his father's lips, one that did not belong there.

"Ah Samuel how nice of you to make it," Bill laughed reaching down his hands grasped into Sam's shirt effortlessly lifting him off of his feet. "Daddy would like a word with you," he laughed with his arm crossing Sam's chest keeping him pinned into place. "I didn't appreciate how our last meeting went," he indicated to Dean who let out a grunt of pain. "It seems that I underestimated you," he laughed squeezing his hand into a fist with blood starting to form on Dean's shirt. "Won't do that again."

Sam attempted to move out of the man's grasp to no avail, it seemed this time that whoever was impersonating his father had learnt from his previous mistakes. "NO!" Sam shouted watching his father's hand lower with Dean panting for breath. Out of the corner of his eye he could see movement where Bobby had been lying moments earlier. "Dad what are you doing?" he questioned trying to bring the man's attention back onto himself.

"Oh I'm not your father," Bill laughed holding his free hand towards Bobby who went flying back into the locker once more. His shotgun was on the floor beside his feet. "You really are in the dark aren't you son, well I will educate you." He tightened his grip on Sam and turned his back towards Dean before walking out into the centre of the gym. The first thing he saw was the body of the gym teacher, he was lying in a pool of his own blood with a hockey stick sitting beside him. There were several students huddled underneath the bleachers with Jo tied to a chair in the centre of the room. There was blood on her hands and her face though Sam was sure this was not her own. Her wild red rimmed eyes tracked their movements and she screamed behind her gag. To the other side of her another figure was standing proud, blood littered the front of his shirt as he shot Sam a feral smile. Sam instantly recognised the man as John, the guy he had seen last night. "You see we don't like it when people poke about in our business, we don't like it when they come into our home and send our family away...we don't like hunters." He threw Sam to the floor beside Jo seeming to be satisfied that he would not be a threat. "Get the other boy," he commanded to John who stalked back into the locker rooms before bringing Dean out by his hair. "Bill and John we especially don't like. They sent our children away so we are going to do the same to theirs."

"Sent them away?" Sam questioned his eyes locking onto Dean's who was desperately trying to talk to man that was restraining him.

"To hell my boy," Bill laughed showing his full set of teeth. "Same place you will be going," he produced a long blade from the waistband of his jeans. Nodding towards John who pulled out a gun and aimed this straight at Dean's temple before dragging him closer to the Harvelle's. "This moment couldn't have been more perfect, I was just going to send your fathers pieces of you but this…this is more fun…they get to live with knowing that it was their own hands that carved into their children. If anything they might do us a favour and off themselves with the guilt. Poetic justice if you ask me," Bill leaned down towards Sam and Jo. "So what twin first?" he questioned tapping the knife to his lips. His eyes flicking from Sam to Jo and back again. "I always wondered whether the other one could feel their twins pain…the moment of death…well I guess today I get to test that theory."

"No," Dean's voice called out bringing Bill's attention back towards him. "You won't hurt them," he gritted out through the pain that his hair being pulled caused, seeming to ignore the gun that was pressed to his head.

"And why is that?" Bill laughed.

"Because Bill won't let you," Dean added. "I know you can hear me Bill," John smashed his fist to Dean's mouth splitting his lip in the process however this didn't stop the elder teenager. "Fight back," he said spitting blood out onto the floor. "You got to fight him," this earned him another smack this time with the barrel of the gun. John's grip on Dean lessened as he fell to the floor struggling for breath where the attack had winded him. "FIGHT!"

"Such a spirited young man," Bill tutted walking over towards Dean. "Does it hurt to think that this is your own father?" he gestured towards John. "How he doesn't have the strength to take his body back…or maybe he don't want to…maybe he is fed up of carrying your ass around."

Dean lifted his head off of the floor, blood dripped from his mouth and the head wound that had seemed to have reopened. His green eyes were bright with his anger and his whole body seemed to be shaking from the adrenaline. He glanced towards Sam, shooting him a small smirk he gestured towards where Jo was restrained. "No," Dean quipped pushing himself to his feet seeming to ignore the gun still.

Sam shuffled slightly his eyes on his father the whole time. His hands reached up to the ropes binding his twin and he slowly started to attempt to free her while Dean distracted. His heart was rocketing in his chest and he hoped that the elder teenager knew what to do.

"Well look at that, John you should be proud at the soldier you have created," Bill smirked his attention turning towards the other man who was staring at him with an odd expression on his face.

John's hands were grasped tightly into fists, with the gun now laying at Dean's feet. His eyes were screwed together with his mouth moving though there were no words coming out. His whole body was rigid, with tremors running along his arms.

"Yes…" John gritted out his voice sounding forced. "I am," he added. "Dean the gun." He ordered with Dean instantly pulling his own weapon out from the waistband of his jeans. He levelled this to his father's shoulder and without having to say anything he fired. The bullet ripped through John's arm causing the man to fall to one knee. His free hand wrapped around the wound with no signs of an exit wound. Black smoke started to pour out of his mouth and his nose, circling the ground underneath his feet. Without warning the smoke took a solid form and barrelled straight towards Dean.

Sam watched in wordless horror as the smoke jumped down Dean's throat, throwing the elder teenager onto his back. His whole body started to seize with Dean's hands gripping into the air like he was forcing an invisible being off of him.

"Get out of my son," John roared pushing himself to his full height ignoring the bullet wound in his arm.

"Oh this is delicious," Bill chuckled watching Dean's body fall still. The rise and fall of his chest was the only telling signs that he was even still with them. The two men stood there with bated breaths, neither one wanting to make their move until they saw the end results. "Clever trick with the devil trap bullets," Bill laughed. "Too bad it was only an arm shot, the boy must have known that it would not contain him."

Dean's eyes opened and they were the darkest black Sam had ever seen. Wordlessly he pushed himself to his feet aiming his gun at John's head. His lips twisted into a sadistic smirk that made his skin crawl.

"Dean…" John called out holding his hands out in front of him. "It's me Ace," he tried again his voice becoming softer.

Dean's head tilted to the side while his eyes flashed from black to green and back again. The gun fell from his grasp with John catching it effortlessly. Dean's body began to shake as an orange light glowed through his veins. His mouth opened with an inhumane scream erupting out of it along with the black smoke making a quick exit. The smoke swirled in the air above them as Dean's body fell to the ground. Orange flecks danced inside of it slowly consuming it from the middle outwards. Bill screeched at the sight with him pouncing on top of Dean. The knife poised in his hands he held it out in front of him ready to plunge it down into the teenagers heart.

"THAT'S NOT POSSIBLE!" Bill screamed at Dean who was starting to come around. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" he yelled holding the knife tip directly to Dean's heart.

"Bill…" John reasoned. "Please don't make me do this."

The smoke vanished in a puff of bright light leaving nothing but wisps in its wake. Bill was still on top of Dean, the knife dangerously close to puncture point. John's gun was pointed to the back of his head, the fatherly instincts seeming to kick in. From the locker room Bobby appeared with Ellen's arms wrapped around his chest. Her face fell at the sight and Sam wanted to run over to his mother to somehow make this whole fucked up situation all right. He managed to free Jo who pulled off of the gag and jumped into his arms. Sobs wracked her body while he brushed the back of her head wanting to be the big brother that he was…all be it by five minutes. Though his eyes remained locked onto the sight of his father about to kill Dean.

"Dad no," he called out his voice unsure and shaking. "Please."

"Bill honey," Ellen attempted. "You have to fight him."

"Listen to her Bill, I don't want to have to do this," John pleaded.

"Someone do something!" Ellen screeched. "Exorcise it."

"You can't," Bill's voice called out softly, his hands remaining where they were however. "He's too strong…I can't hold him…" he whispered his voice becoming quieter with every second that passed. "Be brave Ellen, for the twins," he added his eyes filling with water underneath their black depths. "Do it John…he won't stop until Dean is dead…" with those words his body convulsed as the other being seemed to take control.

"How touching…" that was all he got to say before the sound of a gunshot echoed out and a bright red patch formed in the middle of Bill's chest. Ellen screamed falling to her knees with Sam hugging onto Jo tightly. The black eyes remained staring out at them, Bill's chest fell still and the Harvelle family was changed forever…

TBC ( **Phew what a chapter that was. I hope you enjoyed, let me know what you thought and that I should continue this story. Next chapter won't be for two weeks because I have to work a lot lately and don't have as much time to write as I would like. As always let me know what you think and see you all in chapter six!)**


	6. Chapter 6

The police soon swept into the building, after taking one look at the corpses on the floor they had decided it was more convenient to blame the gym coach. The story they went with was that his wife had just left him because she wanted to work with the children who needed her the most in another country. The coach had turned to drink and started to despise the children he worked with. He got pissed one day went to school with a gun and started to turn this on his students. Ten had died with a few more seriously injured. Amongst the dead was a hero, one parent who decided to stand up to the gym coach only for his life to be taken in the process. That was the story they were told and it was one they went. Ignoring the traumatised student's complaints of black smoke and insane idea about body hopping and possession. They were all suffering from PTSD, nothing more or less. Goes to show how easy it was to convince someone that something is the truth once an idea was put into their heads.

Bill would be remembered as a hero though that would never help the pain the Harvelle's would go through. Sam couldn't help but see the hole in his father's chest every time he closed his eyes. Hear his father's sneer taunting him, smell the rotten egg odour that surrounded him. His memories of his father was tainted by his last moment even though he had died as he had always seen him. His hero.

His mother had soon swept both of them into her arms so they could share in their grief. John and Bobby had removed Bill's body and Dean…well he was just silent. His eyes would connect with Sam's every so often but he couldn't read what he saw in them. The elder teenager had brought down his emotional guards and Sam couldn't help but think that it was partly due to John's presence who he had soon realised was Dean's father. He could see it in the way he walked, his attitude and body shape. Dean was the mini version of John and that scared Sam slightly. Scared him to know that Dean was dangerous that he had been brought up to be able to protect himself. He lived in a life…no a world…completely different to Sam who had just a brief glimpse of it today.

Ellen had screamed at John when she had seen him with Bill's body, she had screamed and hit him, cursing his very name. She had declared that he was never going to be welcome in the Roadhouse again and that she never wanted to see another Winchester again in her whole life.

John had just nodded his head and instructed Dean to pack up his things. Dean who still remained silent, who had blood all over his chest, whose head wound was still continuing to bleed and was most likely going to be suffering from a concussion. Then the Winchesters had taken their leave in that damned Impala with neither one of them seeming to want to look back. That had just made Sam angry, John had killed his father and Dean had saved his life. He hated John and he wanted to hate Dean. He wanted the butterflies to fade and the hero worship to go. He wanted to hate Dean because of him his father had been shot…but he knew that wasn't fair. His father had told John to do it, to protect Dean though he didn't know why. What did Bill know that they didn't? John had only done what a father would do to save their own son. But it felt like much more than that.

Sam didn't understand anything about what had happened and his mother was keeping tight lipped refusing to let him in on the big secret. She just wanted him to forget anything had happened and to go right on back to acting like everything was normal. Jo was taking his mother's direction, she too didn't want to know or acted like she didn't. This was most likely to appease their mother. He was beginning to get fed up of this charade and the one person he wanted to ask wasn't around. He needed to speak to Dean.

Their father had been given a makeshift funeral with Bobby saying that it was tradition in their line of work however no one actually mentioned what their line of work was. It was all hushed hushed even with their father's death. Bobby had stuck around for a couple of days afterwards to give Ellen some support, in the dead of night Sam heard the two of them talking. Every now and then he would hear John or Dean's name creep up in conversation but Ellen would be quick to shut it down. So he guessed that his best route to Dean would be through the elder man, seeing as they seemed to be quite close.

After three days Bobby decided to leave and that was the chance that Sam needed. He walked outside to the elder man's truck, his mother and sister were inside getting the Roadhouse to reopen after their bereavement closure. Hopefully that would mean he would have a few minutes to himself to get what he wanted.

"Bobby," he called out delving his hands into the depths of his pockets.

"Sam," Bobby replied raising his eyebrows at him. "I ain't gonna tell ya a thing."

"You don't have to," Sam added. "I just want his number."

"No."

"Why?" Sam questioned. "He promised me answers."

"I never thought I would see the day a male asking for Dean's number," Bobby shook his head fondly. "Look kid for your sake just drop it."

"No, my father is dead don't you think I deserve to know why? Dean was at my school for a reason, you were there for a reason. Did he know what would happen?"

Bobby inhaled deeply taking his hat off to scratch at his head before placing it back into place. "You are better off not knowing," he sighed reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He grabbed a pen off of his dash and a discarded receipt. "Dean is probably half way across the country by now," he continued scribbling down the number on the piece of paper. "I ain't promising anything," he added handing Sam the receipt that could lead to his questions finally being answered.

"Thank you," he nodded at the elder man as he got in his truck and took his leave.

Sam wasted no time pulling out his phone, saving the number into his phonebook, watching the elder man disappear into the distance while he started plotting the opportune moment.

…

That moment seemed to come that evening, the Roadhouse was packed with Ellen and Jo out front serving the many men that flooded through the moment the doors had opened. The bar looked like a mini forest the amount of flowers that littered the bar, most of the people had come to pay respects to Bill with most of them seeming to have known him on some kind of level. More than him being a landlord to their favourite pub. If Sam had to put money on it he would have guessed that it was something to do with his father's mysterious job, maybe he fixed tables or whatever story it was that his father used to spin.

Sam snuck upstairs using his break as an excuse to take his leave. His phone was in his hands with his heart pounding in his chest, looking over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure that Jo hadn't found a way to follow him like she usually did. Ever since their father had passed his twin had been leaning on him more however she too wouldn't speak about what they had seen that day. It seemed that Jo wanted to feign ignorance like the rest of the world. This just made him want to know what was happening even more, if his family couldn't care then he would have to care for them.

Making his way into the bedroom he closed the door placing the lock into place. He strode over to the window opening it a crack he leant on the window still pausing for a moment to compose himself. His heart was loud in his ears to the point where he wasn't sure he would be able to hear the elder teen if he even picked up his phone. He didn't know where he was or what he might have been doing at that moment in time. Drawing in a deep breath he located Dean's number pressing down on the call button immediately so that he didn't have a chance to talk himself out of it.

With his breath still firmly caught in his throat he listened to the ringing on the other end. It seemed to go on for a long time before an answer machine finally kicked into life giving a generic network message rather than a personalised one. Either Dean didn't want anyone knowing this number or he didn't know how to work it. Most likely the former if all the secrets surrounding him was anything to go by. Sam opened his mouth to leave a message but found that the words froze on the tip of his tongue. What was he going to say? It wasn't like he really knew the man apart from the brief encounters at the school. Deciding against it he pulled the phone from his ear and ended the call, his heart still not having returned to normal rhythm yet.

Everything he had gone through…it was all connected to Dean somehow…he was in the centre of it and Sam needed to find out why. His father had given his life for the elder teen, ok granted he wouldn't have had to if that black smoke hadn't made him go psycho. That was something he still didn't understand just what was it? Some sort of poisoning? Toxic gas? If so then why did it only seem to target specific people and why did it go after his family out of everyone in that school? There were too many unknowns and it made his head hurt just trying to answer them. He couldn't be like his mother and sister. They had seemed to have accepted their fate but he wouldn't…no couldn't.

With a new surge of anger and determination flowing through him he dialled Dean's number with it once again going to the answer phone. "It's Sam…Harvelle…You promised me answers Dean…" he paused every so often in case he could hear signs that his call was going to be answered. "I will keep calling you until you answer me." He spoke into the beep muttering under his breath when he had been cut off. If there was one thing Sam was that was stubborn and he decided to make good on his warning, spending then next hour on and off speaking into Dean's answer machine hoping that one of his calls might be able to reach the elder teenager.

After two hours he threw his phone onto the bed out of frustration, jumping from his seat on the window sill he perched on the edge of the bed, rolling onto his stomach and pillowing his head into his crossed arms. His nose was squished into the duvet but he didn't care. Was it so much to ask for someone to answer him for once? He was getting fed up of being constantly ignored and made to feel like he wasn't important. He fought back the tears that were threatening to fall, he was still in shock and mourning for his father, a man that he didn't really seemed to have ever known.

He could hear the noise level increase downstairs signalling that it was most likely getting to closing time. He was surprised that neither his mother or sister had attempted to call him back into work, maybe for once they were content to leave him to it. He needed space. He needed some room to breathe. His eyes closed of their own accord with his mind starting to drift off when an insistent shrill ringing noise broke through the silence.

Jumping with a start he scrambled for his phone in the darkness pulling the screen into view. His heart pounding fiercely as he recognised the name on the screen. Dean.

Swallowing the lump in his throat he pressed the accept button and held the device up to his ear. "Hello?" he answered mentally kicking himself at how pathetic he sounded.

"I got your fifty messages," Dean sighed.

"And?"

"And what?"

"You promised me answers Dean."

"No I didn't, you asked I didn't promise."

Sam scoffed shaking his head though he knew the elder teenager wouldn't be able to see him. "Don't you feel like you owe me?"

Sam heard Dean inhale along with what sounded like leather squeaking in the background. He must have been in his car then, glancing at the clock showed that it was currently one in the morning, Dean must be a real night owl to be driving this time of night or he didn't want anyone overhearing him. "Sam…"

"No don't you brush me off, don't you dare. Mum and Jo are going on like nothing had happened but they didn't see all that I did. The smoke, the teacher, crawling for our lives through the air vent…there were more of those…things there than what they knew. I heard it talk…it was after me…I want to know why."

"The less you know…"

"Don't give me that crap, I didn't know anything and this still happened!" Sam could feel his temper start to boil under his skin, why did he think that Dean would be any different? Just because he had helped him out with the school bully didn't mean that he was about to share all of his deepest darkest secrets with him. What did he know about Dean anyway? "My dad is dead Dean."

"I know," Dean let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry Sammy…Bill was a good man."

"You knew him," it was a statement rather than a question.

"Ellen will kill me…" he heard Dean mutter. "Look out your window."

Frowning Sam pushed himself to his feet and strode back towards the spot where he had taken vigil for hours just moments beforehand. Peering into the darkness he could see the empty car park…wait no not empty…In the distance right at the edge sat a metallic beauty that gleamed in the moonlight with the occupant leaning against the hood of the car.

"Come out and we will talk…" the phone went dead in his hands not giving him a chance to respond. He didn't care, maybe just maybe he would find the answers he had so desperately been searching for…

TBC ( **Hey everyone, sorry for the shorter than normal chapter but hey at least I managed to post one! Hope you are still enjoying this story and the big talk between the boys will be next. As always thanks for reading and those select few who review, please let me know what you thought. See you all in chapter seven!)**


	7. Chapter 7

Wincing slightly, he allowed the door to close silently behind him, his left hand in his pocket holding tightly onto his keys making sure that he had not just committed himself to a night in the great outdoors. After everything he had seen and been through the past few days he wasn't sure that the dark was the safest place to be anymore, hell he didn't know if anywhere was technically safe. School was meant to be part of his security blanket, a place where the worst could happen was he either got detention or the school bully decided that he would be the victim of the day. Mundane human problems rather than killer smoke and personality changes.

Sam delved his other hand into the depths of his pockets with his neck burrowing deeper into his coat trying to keep the cool bit of early winter off him. He glanced up at the building, the only light source was the single streetlight that was placed outside of the back entrance of the Roadhouse. Good he hoped that it meant that his mother and sister would be asleep by now. He didn't need either of them getting involved they would only stand in his way and refuse him the answers he so desperately craved.

He drew in a deep breath putting his full attention onto the sight before him. Slowly he came to a stop beside the black Impala, the passenger's door was open slightly with the windows steaming up. He could hear the gentle beat of some rock song playing out, filling in for background noise in the otherwise silent atmosphere. Before he could change his mind, he placed his hand on the door handle, opened it with a squeak, sat down in the passenger seat and allowed the door to close behind him. He composed himself for a moment before he allowed his eyes to wander towards the driver.

Dean was sitting rigidly; his hands were poised on the steering wheel in a tight grip while his steely intense green eyes peered out of the windscreen like he was constantly surveying for threat. His phone had been thrown onto the dashboard with a duffle bag slung onto the floor by Sam's feet. The zip was still open a crack showing the handle of what he assumed to be a handgun on top. Ok yes, he had seen the gun at the school but somehow, he didn't expect to be getting a closer encounter with it. What non-psychotic eighteen-year-old carried a weapon around with them?

"Who are you?" Sam whispered his voice could barely be heard over the music though with the tightness in Dean's jaw increasing he knew that the elder teenager had to have heard him. "Who are you?" he tried again hoping that he sounded more confident than what he had felt.

"Dean," Dean tilted his head to the side a small smirk pulling at his lips although it didn't reach his eyes. "Dean Winchester."

"Ok let me rephrase that, who is Dean Winchester?" he countered noting the frown that crossed over the other teenager's face. One that didn't belong there but Sam had to push if he was going to get anywhere with the stubborn eighteen-year-old. "Why do you have a gun?" he indicated down at the bag.

"This is America," Dean replied pulling his hands away from the wheel to scratch at the back of his neck, although his eyes never strayed away from his windscreen. "Who doesn't have one?"

"I don't," Sam replied. "Though I am thinking that maybe I need one," he mumbled the last part to which Dean finally turned his attention towards him. His green eyes were hard and determined, there was not a single hint of emotion peeking through, for all intents and purposes he could have been a robot and Sam would be none the wiser. It was like a massive wall had fallen and his humanity had been locked away from the whole world.

"Your mum would kill you," Dean smirked his whole cocky confident act not working on Sam the slightest. "I don't know what you want me to say," the façade fell with a sigh as he shifted on his seat, placing his left arm onto the window and his knee pulled up into his chest like he was moments away from bolting from the car and it was taking all his self-control to stay where he was.

"The truth Dean," Sam interrupted. "That's what you owe me."

"I honestly don't know what to tell you," Dean placed his head in his hands with his eyes boring into Sam's. "My name is Dean Winchester and I…" he paused for a moment pursing his lips like he was considering his next words very carefully. "I am a hunter."

"Like deer?"

Dean chuckled despite everything that had been going on. "Not even close," he breathed out reaching over towards Sam who had to quickly move his body not knowing what the elder teenager was going to do. With Dean frowning at him he pulled at the straps of his duffle freeing it from Sam's legs while seeming to be extra careful not to come into any contact with the fourteen-year-old. Mentally Sam cursed at himself, great way to make Dean think that he was extra jumpy with him now.

With the frown, still in place Dean undone the zip and delved into the lining of the fabric, his free hand pushing the gun to the side for the moment like it was nothing. He rummaged for a couple of seconds before he brought his hand back out with what appeared to be a book grasped in his palm. He threw the duffle onto the backseat not caring when some of his clothes fell out. His pulled a rubber band off what looked to be like a leather-bound diary of some kind. With his eyes still peering at Sam like he could see into his very soul he held the book out to him, who took it tentatively.

The book was heavier than it looked. The pages were thick with yellow and some red stains running through the edges. He noticed that there were various leaflets and loose items contained inside of it. To not lose anything he brought his knees up into his chest to use as some sort of makeshift table. Ignoring Dean's annoyed intake of breath as his shoes rested on the edge of the leather bench. He flipped open the front page and saw that the book was filled with scratchings that could barely pass as handwriting. Squinting into the soft light of the car he attempted to make out just what it was he was looking at. The book…no journal…was filled with various drawings and symbols with notes attached to them. Pictures of what appeared to be crime scenes fell out into his lap and he suddenly was not sure what he was exactly looking at. Dean said he was a hunter…of what…humans? Repressing the urge to check that the book wasn't made from human skin he lifted his attention from his lap and back towards Dean who had yet to say much else of anything really.

"I don't understand," he breathed trying to make sense of this whole situation.

"That is my father's journal," Dean declared. "It has everything we know in there," he added like that was going to explain everything. "The monsters at the end of the story, the bogeyman even the freaking tooth fairy…they are all real."

Sam laughed, though it was more of a nervous one rather than him finding anything about this situation mildly amusing. "Stop fucking with me," he breathed out noting Dean's once again serious expression. "I don't need you taking the piss out of me."

"I'm not, Sammy." Dean shifted once more in his seat with his knee brushing slightly against Sam's. Not seeming to be aware of the electric tingle that sparked through the younger teenager at that one touch of contact between them. After everything that had happened lately it seemed that his mind still couldn't get over its silly little crush, he wasn't even gay…at least he didn't think he was…well he had a lot to think about later.

"Yeah right, so you want me to believe that vampires…Frankenstein…"

"Frankenstein was the doctor not the monster," Dean interrupted with a smirk on his face to which Sam raised his eyebrow to. "What? I read," he grumbled. "If you can think of it, it's probably real somewhere."

"No," Sam shook his head attempting to repress the angry tears that were threatening to fall. His hands still clasped at the journal half tempted to throw the whole thing at the elder teenager. All he had wanted was some answers not to be made fun of. He was not a child. Why did no one think he could handle the truth? "I didn't ask you here to be made fun of. Why can't you tell me the truth?"

"Because you can't seem to handle it. I have never lied to you. You wanted to know what I do," Dean's finger shot out and jabbed in the middle of the cover of the book. "This is what I do. This is what I have done the whole of my life. Saving people, hunting things, the family business!"

"So, what you are telling me is that you…you track down and hunt these things? What for sport?"

"No," Dean sighed. "For revenge."

"Revenge for who?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does Dean, how am I meant to believe any of this? It just sounds so…so…"

"Insane?" Dean offered shrugging his shoulders. "Believe what you want it won't make it any less of the truth."

Sam fell silent for the moment trying to process what he was being told. He now understood the saying that ignorance was bliss... "What I saw…What were those…" he stammered not quite sure how to describe the black smoke that had plagued his dreams ever since that night.

"Demons," Dean replied casually like it was the most normal thing he could have said in that moment in time.

"De…Demons? Right…" Sam's gaze peered off into the distance, not staring at anything in particular just trying to get his head around what he was being told. "Like as in hell spawn?"

"Yes," Dean replied coolly. "They have to possess someone to use them as a host."

"Like my Dad?"

"And mine."

"But Dad spoke to me…to us…He was a hunter too?"

"One of the best. He taught my Dad most of what he knew. Bill and Bobby were there for him when…" Dean trailed off bringing Sam's attention back towards him. "Every hunter has a story, what made them start this life."

"What was my Dad's?"

"I don't know. Bill didn't like speaking about it."

"What about you?"

"I don't remember."

"You don't remember?"

"What more do you want from me?" Dean growled his hands hitting the steering wheel. "This is my life that's it."

…

Sam opened his mouth to say something but instead of his normal voice a high-pitched squeal escaped. Flushing red he was about to deny the noise when he came face to face with the angry, shaking form that belonged to his mother. Ellen was standing in front of the car; her face was flushed a deep red that seemed to glow even in this low light. He felt Dean's body become tight beside him like he was debating whether he could get away with running the furious matriarch over.

"SAMUEL WILLIAM HARVELLE GET OUT OF THE CAR RIGHT THIS MOMENT!" Ellen screeched. Her hands slammed down on the trunk of the Impala and Sam could almost see a vein pop in the side of Dean's head where he seemed to be biting his tongue. "GET OUT!" she continued when neither boy made a move.

Without hesitating a moment longer Sam opened the passenger door and scrambled out of his seat, he clutched the journal close to his chest pretty much forgetting that he still had it. He had to fight to stay on his feet when his legs wouldn't stop shaking.

"WHAT LIES HAS HE BEEN TELLING YOU?!" She almost screamed in his face.

"He told me what you wouldn't," Sam replied coldly his eyes locking onto the elder teenager who smiled softly at him before turning the key in the ignition.

"RUN AWAY WINCHESTER ITS WHAT YOU ALL DO BEST! YOU COME NEAR MY FAMILY AGAIN I WILL KILL YOU, YOU HEAR ME!" Ellen screamed grabbing hold of Sam's wrist forcing him away from the Impala which peeled as quickly as it could out of the driveway. The red headlights were all that he could see in the distance as Dean left his life as rapidly as he had entered. Not knowing whether he was going to see the elder teenager again.

…

Sam groaned as he threw his body onto his bed. It had been a week since his mother had caught him talking to Dean and in that time, she had barely let him out of her sight. She attempted to deny everything that the elder teenager had told him. Trying to make him believe that it was all in Dean's head like he was a psycho who dreamt up monsters where all he needed to do was look in the mirror to see one according to his mother.

He had just finished closing the Roadhouse, heading straight to bed he closed his door and sighed at the lock that was in place on his window. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed underneath the sheet. Peering at the light that extinguished underneath his door he rummaged underneath his pillow to retrieve the precious item that he had stashed there. God forbid his mother found the journal.

Using the light of his phone he flicked through the pages staring at the drawings and the words that accompanied them. Most of it was written in what he presumed to be John's spidery scrawl apart from the latest entries. In the margin on some of the pages Dean had crossed words out and seemed to have corrected some of the facts that John had entered. Like for the one about demons, Dean had drawn a sketch of his idea for shotgun shells filled with rock salt. Because apparently, they didn't like the condiment.

However, it was one of the loose pieces of paper that caught Sam's attention, it was a crayon drawing that looked like it must have been drawn by a toddler. There was the basic shape of a bedroom with orange swirls dancing through it. In the doorway was a stick figure with another smaller one behind it. Beside the bed was another one but this time the figure had bright yellow eyes which seemed to almost be laughing at Sam. Stifling the chills that this innocent picture caused to ripple through him he turned his attention to the fourth and final figure in the picture. This one was higher than the rest, lying flat by the looks of it, long yellow hair floated behind their head with a red hole for a stomach. He had no idea what scene this was meant to have been showing though he couldn't take his eyes away from the yellow.

He tucked the page back into the journal and rested this behind his pillow. He would come to cherish and research this book for many years to come before fate will bring Sam and Dean back together once more…

TBC ( **Hey everyone, sorry for the late chapter work has been so busy so struggling to find time to write as much as I used to. I hope you will all stick by me as I promise I will not abandon this story. Thanks for reading and a special thank you to those few who review, please keep it coming they always help me write the next one. Thanks again and see you all in chapter eight)**


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